


The End of Fate

by sistercacao



Series: GW500 Ficlets [4]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-21
Updated: 2007-09-21
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:07:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sistercacao/pseuds/sistercacao
Summary: Heero self destructs and Duo laments.





	The End of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble I wrote for the [GW500](https://gw500.livejournal.com/) back in the day.

I don’t believe in fate. Actually, I don’t believe in anything big and invisible and spooky that dictates all your decisions for you. No big bearded guy in the sky, no threesome of kooky old grandmas that sit around sewing the threads of people’s lives all day. And no mysterious force that brings two people in the entire vast earth sphere together for some undisclosed cosmic purpose.

Sometimes, though, I forget how stupid the idea is.

You meet a guy, out of the blue, when you’re _trying_ to rescue a golden-haired damsel in distress, and he just so happens to be another gundam pilot. What is that, a coincidence?

Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I certainly didn’t think that some giant invisible hand came out of the sky and shoved us together to meet on the pier that day. And it definitely wasn’t the work of some big jolly ghost up in heaven when I busted him out of that medical facility– that was all the work of one very earthly Duo Maxwell, thank you very much.

And was it fate when he stole parts from my gundam and hit the road without ever telling me his name? If so, then fate has a pretty twisted sense of humor.

It was about the time that we ended up in the same boarding school that I started to think things were getting a little strange. Of course, maybe if I had thought about it a little longer, I might’ve realized that if it made sense that the doctors would have us go undercover at a school while we scoped out a target, then it wasn’t nearly as much of a coincidence that, if given the same target, we might end up at the same boarding school. No, that doesn’t sound like fate to me, just good old strategy.

But by that point in my little timeline since meeting Heero Yuy, I’d had _way_ too much time to lie awake at night and peer out at the moon and wonder what that guy and his blue, blue eyes were up to. So maybe the idea of some kind of preordained destiny drawing us together seemed a little appealing to me, all right? Even if I _did_ know better.

That night, right before we set off, I went and knocked on his door at the dormitory for the last time– we would probably not see each other for a while following the mission, after all. No more basketball games and lunches together and talking to him and mostly to myself while he ignored my existence. I was kind of peeved about it, because I’d just been getting him to start talking to me back, you know? And it kind of thrilled me in a totally self-destructive way. So I felt I couldn’t leave before talking to him one more time.

Was the hunch that I felt that night, the one that told me I might not get a chance to talk to him again, was that fate forcing my hand?

I gave him a whole speech standing in the open doorway for everyone to hear, like a bit of an idiot. Heero just watched me impassively and then gave me a little head nod to get me to come the hell inside. It was dark in the room, and I moved toward his computer to get a better look at his face, pale and shadowed in the light from the screen.

He turned to me, and I said his name without even realizing it. And then something pulled me toward him, like gravity, like someone shoving me forcefully from behind, and I kissed him. He didn’t respond, just let my lips rest against his for a couple of seconds, then I was out the door, wondering just what the hell had made me do a dumb thing like that.

And part of me was wondering just what would happen between us after the mission– that little thrill inside me was smoldering like it hadn’t done in a few good years, not since I saw my home burn like so much kindling.

And, only a handful of hours later, Heero Yuy was lying dead in a halo of blood, with the remains of his gundam in pieces around him. And the soft impassive press of his lips against mine was the last thing I’d ever know of him.

If there _is_ some otherworldly, transparent son of a bitch floating around and pushing people together– who were doing _just fine_ on their own, thank you– for the purpose of his own sick celestial entertainment, then I’ll make it my personal mission to die and go to hell just to wrap _my_ invisible hands around his scrawny little neck.

It’s meaningless, it’s all so pointless, that you can know a guy and touch him one minute and the next he’s nothing but a corpse on the ground.

I told you I don’t believe in fate.


End file.
